I take my seat and lift the armrest between us, thankful that I can at least hold her. I look down and take her shaking fingers, bringing them to my lips.
Fuck me, this is going to be a long flight.
“Did you take those sleeping pills yet?” I ask as I try to calm her with my touch.
“No, not yet.”
“Are they in your purse?”
“Yeah.”
I ask the flight attendant for a mimosa and water, and I lean down to get Heather’s purse. When I look back up she’s fidgeting nervously. Christ, I can’t stand seeing her like this.
“Hey . . .” I reach for her chin and make her look at me. “Calm down. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”
She takes in a deep breath and clutches at my shirt. “I can’t do this.”
“I won’t ever ask you to get on another flight, baby. We’ll drive everywhere. You have my word.”
I watch her to make sure she takes her sleeping pill, and then I pull her into my arms and hold her as her body quivers wildly.
She looks up at me with frightened eyes as I rub her shoulder. “Do you think we’re going to crash?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “No, we’re not going to crash,” I manage to say without laughing. But damn, she’s fucking adorable.
After the flight attendants have been through their final checks, they sit back down, and Heather digs her fingers into my forearm. After we taxi out, the plane lurches and starts jetting down the runway at full speed. Her fingers are clenched around my arm to the point of her knuckles turning white. I try to make her laugh to keep her mind preoccupied.
“Damn girl, you’re going to bruise me.”
She smiles the slightest bit, but she refuses to let go of me, and I’m okay with it. I love that she needs me too. Once the plane reaches its altitude, she finally relaxes—either because of me, or her medication is finally kicking in.
“Go to sleep, baby.”
“Mmm,” she manages, and I get up to grab her pink blanket from her carry-on. I lay it over her before I take my laptop out and sit down to study while she sleeps.
I look over as I wait for my laptop to power up, and she’s already passed out. Thank God.
The flight attendant walks by, and I ask her for a glass of orange juice for when Heather wakes up. She’s been asleep for just over four hours now, and I’ve gotten a lot of studying done. We hit a rough patch of turbulence, and I keep my eye on Heather, hoping that she doesn’t wake up right now. A few minutes pass, and she seems to be okay until we hit another rough patch.
Moments later she stirs and must feel the plane jolt because she sits straight up in a panic and grabs the armrest to her left. She gasps as her eyes go wide.
“Are we crashing?” Her voice trembles noticeably.
I reach out to her and cup her face, making her look at me. “We’re not crashing. Relax for me, ballerina. We’re fine, and I’m here.”
I can feel her heartbeat fluttering against my fingertips when I graze her neck.
Her eyes are locked onto mine, and I move in closer to kiss her slowly. I shut my laptop and make her lie back down, reclining my seat too. I’m thankful that this armrest moves, enabling me to lie down next to her. I pull her body into mine and move my hands under her shirt. She sighs heavily and puts her blanket over the two of us.
“I’m not going to let you go. You have my word.”
“Please don’t.”
The turbulence intensifies, and her breathing follows suit.
“Shh . . . just relax.” My fingers graze her flat stomach.
She’s radiating nervous energy so I kiss her, wanting her to know that we’re going to be okay. I need to get her to calm down. “Heather . . . be quiet, okay?” I move my hand lower and under the light lace material of her panties.
She quickly grabs my wrist and halts my movements. “Noah, you . . . what are you doing?”
“Do you trust me?”
She nods but doesn’t let go of my wrist.
I move my hand down farther regardless and run the pad of my index finger around her clit.
She jolts under my touch. “Noah, no.”
“Don’t say that word to me, Heather.” I kiss her collarbone before nipping at her. She’s already forgotten about the flight, and she’s completely ensconced in my touch.
I know that she’s not opposed to sexual acts in public; in fact, I know she enjoys them just as much as I do. I’m not sure if she can keep her moans and gyrations to a minimum, but I’m going to try. Discreetly, I slide my middle finger inside of her warm pussy. She doesn’t fight my daring movement, but instead seems to delight in it.
“Oh God . . .” she whispers and grips my wrist tighter.
“That’s not my name, but you can call me whatever the fuck you want, beautiful. Just make sure you let that pussy come all over my hand.”
She bites on her cheek to stop herself from moaning out loud as I add another finger into her soaked channel. I start applying more pressure and moving my fingers faster, pushing up on her most sensitive spot.
“Noah, I can’t.”
“Shh . . .”
I remove my fingers from her pussy and pull my hand out of her panties. She’s still holding onto my wrist when I put my two fingers into my mouth and taste her sweetness.
“I love the way this pussy tastes.”
Her eyes widen and just as I’m about to dive back in, I’m interrupted. “Sir, miss? Would either of you like a drink?”
I look at the glass full of orange juice and shake my head. “We’re all set, thank you.”
She moves on, and I turn back to Heather. To my surprise, she’s sitting a little straighter and her blanket is nearly at her waist.
I raise my eyebrow in a challenge. “Going somewhere? I’m not finished.”
“I have to pee,” she lies, and I shake my head.
“No, you have to come.”
I move toward her and slip my hand below the blanket. “I haven’t had your pussy in days, Heather. I know you’re aching for my cock.” My lips graze her earlobe as I speak.
She lies back down and watches me intently as I lower my hand, and holy shit, my feisty girl has pushed her panties and leggings down to her knees. The grin that spreads across my face is hard to hide. “Mmm, there she is.”
I slide a finger into her again when she moves her hand on top of mine.
She turns her face toward mine and sucks in a breath. I focus my eyes on her lips while my finger focuses on her warm, wet pussy. “You miss my cock, don’t you?”
She rotates her hips as if she’s begging for me. “Noah . . .”
“Yeah? I fucking love when you beg me.” She licks her plump lips and presses down on my hand.
“Give me more.”
I meet her needs and slide in a second finger, pushing up at her spot at a faster pace as her walls grip my fingers. My cock is hard as hell, and I’m thinking of all the ways I could get her off. My fingers are drenched, and her juices are dripping into my palm and down my wrist.
I can’t help but groan into her ear. “I’m going to come the moment I get inside this pussy, Heather.”
She whimpers, and I swear to God she starts leaking like a faucet. “I need your cock, Noah.”
I slowly remove my fingers from her and undo my jeans with my other hand, just far enough to get my cock out. “Turn around and give me your ass.”
“I-Noah, we’ll get caught,” she whispers as she watches me.
I reach up and turn our reading lights off before I flip her over and pull her ass to me. “Everyone is asleep, and the lights are out in the cabin.”
She looks back at me with a worried expression on her face. I lean in close, groaning when I grip my cock and drag it through her soaked folds.
“This is your one and only chance at joining the mile-high club.” Sucking on her earlobe, I add, “Slide that pretty pussy down my cock, Heather. You’re soaking wet—I’ll fit right in.”
&n
bsp; “I want you so bad . . .” She throws her head back and decides to listen to me. Her warmth engulfs my shaft. I have to push up to help her accommodate my size.
“How does it feel?”
She only whimpers her answer, and I lose my train of thought. Her cream is coating my cock, and it’s beyond fucking hot inside her pussy.
Her fingers clamp down on my thigh, and I feel her body tremble. “Noah . . .” she hisses out quickly and louder than necessary.
My movements are small and unnoticeable underneath the blanket, and I feel her tighten further. I bring my hand around to her neck and wrap my fingers around her throat, holding her in place as I take her.
I’m moments from busting inside of her. Holy fuck, she’s gone slick around me, and I slide in deep. I feel it the moment I get her off. Her tight pussy grips me and starts to quiver uncontrollably, trying to milk me for all I have.
My fingers tighten the slightest bit around her neck, as her mouth drops open in a silent cry.
I can’t hold it any longer. My cock is begging for release so I oblige it and fill her tight channel with hot spurts of come. A sheen of sweat has formed on the back of her neck, and my tongue wants a taste. I groan too loudly with my release. She moves her hand around to cover my mouth in an attempt to block out my sounds. I retaliate by biting the palm of her hand and squeezing her perfectly shaped ass.
She puts her finger to her perfect lips and tries to shush me.
We both stop moving and revel in our climax. I take the hand she is holding up to her mouth and move it down to where our connecting bodies are. I run her finger through our wet satisfaction and bring it back up to her lips. “You know what to do, ballerina.”
She smiles shyly and slowly licks her finger. My cock jerks when I see her enjoy how we taste. I fucking love the way she looks when she’s tasting me . . . us.
“Goddamn, Heather, you keep sucking that finger, and my cock will be hard again in minutes.”
She giggles and takes my finger into her mouth, biting down hard.
I grunt and pull my hand back. “Heather . . .” I scold playfully.
“Mmm?” She tries to ask innocently.
I grab a fistful of her hair and pull her head back enough for me to kiss her as I pull out. I put my cock away and growl into her mouth, “Go clean up, dirty ballerina.”
I laugh when she gasps and smacks my chest before pulling her leggings up, watching the love of my life carefully as she maneuvers out of the seat and into the aisle.
“Miss me while I’m gone?”
“Always, baby.”
She winks at me for the first time, and it takes me by surprise. Fuck me . . . I’m in love.
We’re back at Heather’s apartment; she seems comfortable and relaxed for the first time in weeks. She’s sitting on her pink couch with her leg propped up as she searches her iPad for a physical therapist who will fit her needs. I know she’s dying to dance again, and I’m going to be here for her every step of the way. I have my first bar prep class in the morning, and I’m sure it will be intimidating, but I’m ready. I’m ready to leave the past behind and move forward with my life.
My phone goes off and Heather glances up at me. It’s a text from Joel:
Welcome home, Ryan. We need to get together soon.
I type out a reply:
Thanks, man. We’ll need to set up a time for the four of us to go out. Unless you have a plus-one?
His reply comes soon after I hit send and I move to sit next to Heather:
Nah, man, it’s still just me. I heard Dillen broke things off with Coen the second he left London. What a bitch.
I almost spit out the water I just sipped:
Dude. I’ve got nothing to say on that topic. I’ve seen too many damn tears in the past week.
Tears? Because she misses Coen or because she misses that dick?
Now that is a good question.
I set my phone down before turning to Heather. “Have you had any luck?”
“Mmm, yes, I’ve found two. One is Dr. Miller Blythewood, and the other is Dr. Lacey Repler. It looks like Dr. Blythewood has had more experience with dancers, though, so I think I might set up an appointment with him.” She looks up at me nervously, and for the life of me, I cannot figure out why the hell she just got so nervous.
She shifts so she’s sitting on my lap, and I place my lips on the top of her head, breathing her in. “That sounds good, ballerina. I’ll be at as many appointments as I can make it to.”
“You don’t have to do that, but thank you. I’ll call his office tomorrow to set one up.”
“Good, because you are going to be incredibly jetlagged.” I stop speaking when she nuzzles my chest and bites at my right pec. “You’re asking for it, Miss Lane.”
“Oh? I wasn’t aware,” she says innocently, her voice husky with need.
I tilt her chin up and take her mouth with mine. Her soft, velvet-like tongue caresses mine, and I can’t hide my fervor.
“Noah?” she asks when we break our kiss.
“What is it?”
“Have you decided when you’re going to go and meet your parents? It’s been weeks since they found out their son is alive, and I bet they are beyond restless to meet you.”
I kiss the shell of her ear and exhale soundlessly. “I’ll need to get in contact with them.”
I reach for my phone and open up my email application, deciding that I might as well be the one to start this transition in my life. In fact, I’m pleased to be taking control of my life again.
To: Henry Somer
From: Noah Ryan
Subject: Meet-Up Date
Henry,
I hope you and Ellery are doing well. I wanted to let you know that I am back in New York City. I would like to meet you soon, if your schedule allows for it. I am able and more than happy to travel to you.
Please let me know which dates would work best for you. I am enrolled in a bar prep course as of now, so weekends would work best for me.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Your son,
Noah Ryan
I hit send and look over at Heather, who was watching me type out the email. I let out a deep breath and try to tell myself that this is what needs to happen, as well as this is what I want. My family. My life.
“You’re still going to come with me, correct?”
“Of course I am. I promised you, didn’t I?”
“I know you did. I just needed the confirmation.”
“Well, you’ve got it, Greek god.”
“Thank you. Now tell me, would you like to go out with Joel and Coen tomorrow night? Joel was texting me earlier.”
“Sure, that sounds like fun, but has Coen said anything to you about Dill?”
“I’m glad.” I look at my watch and yawn. “No, he hasn’t said anything since we got back . . . should I call him?”
I watch her think it over for a moment and then nod. “Yeah, call him.”
I nod and hit dial and then put it on speakerphone as it rings a few times.
“What the fuck is up, man?” Coen’s voice breaks through the silence.
I laugh and shake my head, leaning back against the couch. “Not shit. Just wanted to let you know we’re back in the States.”
“Nice, assfuck. You’ve been missed around these parts. Are you two going to be joining the three of us tomorrow night?”
I pause and look at Heather. She shrugs and pipes in. “Hi, Coen, I thought it was just the four of us going out?”
“Nah, not anymore, little lady. I’ve got someone I want you both to meet. Her name is Lana.”
Her eyes go wide, and I raise my brow at her. “Uh . . . oh, okay,” she stutters and closes her eyes, shaking her head slowly. I’m sure we’re thinking the same thing.
“Is this a new piece of ass, or do you see this going anywhere?” All of these girls cannot be good for his pride.
“Ah fuck, man, I don’t know, but I’d pay her bills. And she
does this thing with her throat that . . .” He stops mid-sentence before speaking again. “Wait, is Heather still listening?”
“Damn right she is.”
Heather snickers and gets off of my lap. “I’m going to bed, boys. Play nice.”
“’Night, sis,” he calls out and we both look at each other.
Heather breaks out a megawatt smile and mouths, “Awww” to me, before she kisses me and heads upstairs to bed. I take Coen off of speaker and pick the phone up from the coffee table.
I watch her walk upstairs before I speak. “All right, she does what with her throat?”
He laughs and starts in again. “Shit, man, does Heather deep-throat?”
I chuckle and grin. “Wouldn’t you enjoy that bit of knowledge? Huh? Now tell me who the fuck this woman is.”
I can hear him grin and then a beer crack open. “I met her at a club last week. Long blonde hair, perfect tits, and an ass you can bounce a quarter off of. Need more?”
“Right, the typical Coen type of woman but in all seriousness, are you good, man?”
He’s quiet for a long breath, and I can tell he’s contemplating. “I’m good. So where we going tomorrow?”
“Good to hear. Uhh, tomorrow . . . fuck, man, I don’t know. Skydiving?”
He laughs. “You think you can talk Heather into that, man?”
“I fucking doubt it, but shit, I would be interested in doing it here in New York. Phoenix was great.”
“Come on by, man, I’ll hook you up. We’ve been slow lately so I’ve got the time to jump with you.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
I hear Heather call out, “Noah? I can’t sleep without you . . .”
I look over my shoulder toward the stairs and get up off the couch.
“All right, man, my girl is waiting in bed. I can’t disappoint her,” I say as I pull my shirt off as I walk up the stairs.
“Ah, enjoy the little lady, dipshit. I’ll text you with details on tomorrow night soon. Bye.”
A Winter's Date Page 14
